


Solstice

by dogtit



Category: RWBY
Genre: Multi, RWBY 3 Spoilers, includes a terrible joke im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogtit/pseuds/dogtit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bits and pieces does not a relationship make, but that's what communication is for. </p><p>//</p><p>drabble series about polymaidens! ratings may change and wordcount will vary wildly</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> the first and only night with four bodies instead of one. 
> 
> winter/glynda/summer/amber

The night they meet is a strange one. Beacon is hit with a rare and violent storm, grounding all airships for the next week. Winter has no accommodations, and neither does Amber. 

For some reason, Winter isn’t as bothered by this as she should be. 

Glynda and Ozpin get the two of them settled in empty dorm rooms–it is Beacon’s winter break, after all. It doesn’t escape her notice the irony inherent in the Maidens coming together in her month. 

(It’s weird to think of it like that, Winter knows, but now the certainty brings a level of possessiveness that she’s felt but never had a name. It feels…nice.)

But sleeping in a single room after meeting the others–after having Summer playfully knock her shoulder against her own, Amber’s fingers around her hand, Glynda’s warm smile and helpful gaze–seems wrong. There are three souls tied to her own now. Her life stitched with three more, her fate just another thread in a tightly woven braid of rope that stretches from the murky beginning. 

She’s never belonged to anything so big before.

As the wind howls she tosses and turns in the sheets, itchy under her skin from a magnetic pull vibrating deep into her soul. She wants to be with them–one of them, _all_  of them, it doesn’t _matter_ –when her door opens with a soft creak. 

Winter sits up, eyes wide. Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes; the flash of light illuminates Summer Rose standing in her doorway. Even when darkness falls again Winter can see her. 

Her breath catches in her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“You can feel it, right?”

Winter’s fingers clench against her blankets and she shudders, Summer’s voice dripping down her spine. Summer moves in the darkness, a slow pace–a Huntress’s pace–and she reaches out to brush Winter’s hair aside. They are, spiritually, polar opposites. The beating heat of July; the cold kiss of December. 

Winter leans into the heat. It blearily occurs to her that this is a highly inappropriate response to have to her senior, but she just can’t…

“Come with me,” Summer whispers, and her fingers settle on her pulse. “Amber is grabbing Glynda.”

Winter’s heartbeat spikes and her face flushes. A Maiden she might be. A Specialist, she might also be. A fifteen year old crippled with hormones and the reality that she now has three people in her life she feels intrinsically connected to? Who also _happen_  to be incredibly beautiful?

She’s only _human_.

“Oh,” Summer cooes, her voice girlish and innocent and knowing. “Naughty! Not like that, sweetie. It’s a cuddlepuddle.”

“C-Cuddle–what?” Winter stammers, embarrassment flooding her. 

“Cuddlepuddle. I did it with my team all the time!” 

Winter wheezes. 

“You’ve got such a wild imagination,” Summer laughs. “You’re so much fun, Winter. Come _on_! Just trust me!”

Winter does. She stands, and Summer surprises her again by pulling her close. She squeaks; Summer chuckles, her voice against Winter’s ear.

“I’d want you all to myself first, anyway,” is what she says, wicked and teasing. “I like sharing just fine, but I want to treat you special.”

Winter keeps her screaming internal even as Summer leads her out of the door, down the hall, and into Amber’s dorm. Glynda sits on the edge of a bed, stiff and hauntingly beautiful with her hair loose in a light green nightgown the color of her eyes. She looks years younger, soft, and Winter’s throat tightens. Amber wears a ratty old t-shirt with charm, and tight leggings that cling; Summer has a tanktop with a faded Beowolf decal and pink pants with little hearts. 

Winter has a plain slip. She feels awkward and outshone by everyone, at least until Amber and Summer begin to grab blankets and pillows and pile them in the center, making a nest. She stands next to a bristling Glynda. 

“How’d they talk you into this?” 

Glynda’s lips purse and her cheeks flush. “Talking wasn’t–exactly the tactic she, they, I–”

Winter laughs, a soft giggle. “Me too,” she admits, a little shyly. When Glynda goes still and murder lights in her eyes as they settle on Summer, mouthing _inappropriate behavior_  Winter hurries to add, “I mean, it wasn’t–she didn’t do anything! Nothing happened. Um. Just a lot of flirting.”

Glynda relaxes by degrees. “Team STRQ’s leader still vexing me to this day. Unbelievable.”

Summer calls out; “You love me, Goodwitch!”

Glynda scowls. “You can prove nothing, Rose.”

Amber gives them both a smirk that makes Winter’s heart flutter and her blood go boiling hot, wringing her fingers. “Summer can prove plenty of things.”

They share a highfive as Glynda groans. 

“Well, at least it’s done.” Summer dusts her hands and gestures. “Get in, ladies! Nothing like huddling close and waiting out a storm like this.” 

“I like you Vale girls,” Amber says, taking a seat and pulling up one of the thick comforters up to her neck. “You know how to survive. Mm, soft and downy…”

“If we’re getting in, she’s not coming near the two of you,” Glynda says archly. “You vultures. Circling around her–”

“ _Maidenhood?”_  How Summer manages to say this with a straight face while Amber collapses into guffaws at the first syllable, Winter will never know. It takes a shove from her and a pull from Amber to get Glynda anywhere near the pile, though she is kept tucked under Glynda’s arm–solid, strong Glynda who might just look after them all–and it feels so good. 

To belong.

The storm outside rages and as Winter listens to Summer and Amber trade banter, to the steady beating of Glynda’s heart, she thinks, _let this last forever._


End file.
